Why Me?
There's this point in time when a beloved asks, "Why me? Of all the people, why choose me?"
I have experienced the thing and I honestly admit I wasn't prepared for it.
Naturally I answered what first entered my mind - and that was all in it's rawest truest form... shame if it had been misunderstood, which is a common thing to happen at my lines.
To this cause I tribute this post-Valentine entry, and ramble of what I think of the answer. The silence that come to me today greatly blesses me to hear out loud the thoughts that echo in my head... and focus. (yeah... no SOS right now whee )
The first thing of thought would be superficial and how you handled things around. The way each is movement is laid out, every detail of speech, the letters and symbols each in turn make up the whole of you... but not quite so... in every line is a hint of the underlying person and this person, on every line she wrote, shares herself, her thought and feelings - in as little as it maybe is a great value not to be wasted.
What comes next is the attittude and what you are out of character - what you portray outside the limiting lines of your role. The same quirks? The same grace? Not really - For I am not looking for a perfect person, nor someone I could just share pity with. What I see, though I myself am still blinded, is what I trust the most, and often through scrutiny that I content myself at your form.
Of all the others that I have contacted with and have woven souls - where you communicate and intertwine experience, forming beds of loft dreams - none has yet made me look back - More of them, just there and the occassional pat, the less go on for cheers, and the few dare go near and ask for anything they can help with. Which of them are you? Though what you see yourself is very much different from mine, the whole thing overlaps in an exotic manifestation that we get along quite well. You may be in where the people just gives pats - but I know you know more of yourself than I do. And you know your place better than me.
How about the more deserving? Do I really deserve it? - It all comes to feel - and what the feel says should be backed up with the thought. The silence only offers thought though... more of this shall come in another time. arrow
[[Note and Disclaimer: If the entry above goes out of lines of intelligible grammar - well, that's because I wrote on a style they call 'burst-stream content'. A style that allows you to freely type in words that your mind makes-up for what it feels right now, what it thinks, and feed it into your fingers in a continuous stream of thought, without heeding any grammar, or other rules it might break - and that includes moral consequences. Again, pardon if the content above rather offends you. ]]
I have experienced the thing and I honestly admit I wasn't prepared for it.
Naturally I answered what first entered my mind - and that was all in it's rawest truest form... shame if it had been misunderstood, which is a common thing to happen at my lines.
To this cause I tribute this post-Valentine entry, and ramble of what I think of the answer. The silence that come to me today greatly blesses me to hear out loud the thoughts that echo in my head... and focus. (yeah... no SOS right now whee )
The first thing of thought would be superficial and how you handled things around. The way each is movement is laid out, every detail of speech, the letters and symbols each in turn make up the whole of you... but not quite so... in every line is a hint of the underlying person and this person, on every line she wrote, shares herself, her thought and feelings - in as little as it maybe is a great value not to be wasted.
What comes next is the attittude and what you are out of character - what you portray outside the limiting lines of your role. The same quirks? The same grace? Not really - For I am not looking for a perfect person, nor someone I could just share pity with. What I see, though I myself am still blinded, is what I trust the most, and often through scrutiny that I content myself at your form.
Of all the others that I have contacted with and have woven souls - where you communicate and intertwine experience, forming beds of loft dreams - none has yet made me look back - More of them, just there and the occassional pat, the less go on for cheers, and the few dare go near and ask for anything they can help with. Which of them are you? Though what you see yourself is very much different from mine, the whole thing overlaps in an exotic manifestation that we get along quite well. You may be in where the people just gives pats - but I know you know more of yourself than I do. And you know your place better than me.
How about the more deserving? Do I really deserve it? - It all comes to feel - and what the feel says should be backed up with the thought. The silence only offers thought though... more of this shall come in another time. arrow
[[Note and Disclaimer: If the entry above goes out of lines of intelligible grammar - well, that's because I wrote on a style they call 'burst-stream content'. A style that allows you to freely type in words that your mind makes-up for what it feels right now, what it thinks, and feed it into your fingers in a continuous stream of thought, without heeding any grammar, or other rules it might break - and that includes moral consequences. Again, pardon if the content above rather offends you. ]]
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